


slowly

by aquariuslester (geminidaniel)



Series: dsmp headcanons [5]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF, dream team smp, dreamnotfound - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Video Game World, Angst, Canon - Video Game, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Dialogue Heavy, Dream Team SMP Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Dreams and Nightmares, During Canon, Flashbacks, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Minecraft, Nightmares, No Smut, Oneshot, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prison, Songfic, Tags May Change, Video Game Mechanics, Villains, i hate tagging things, just the lava part, lovers to strangers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:48:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29388663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geminidaniel/pseuds/aquariuslester
Summary: dream losing his mind in prison. and missing george.slowly by cemetery drive
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: dsmp headcanons [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2119860
Kudos: 22





	slowly

**Author's Note:**

> possible trigger warning for self-harm through burning.
> 
> lowkey don't hate this one, also i'm not a dsmp dream apologist, i just like writing angst.

dream shivered at the feeling of the freezing obsidian pressed against his back as he laid idly on the floor of his cell. his teeth began chattering at the sensation, but he refused to do anything about it.

the iced feeling against the back of his neck seemed to ground him as he stared up at the ceiling. the murkiness of the deep black that surrounded him tricked his eyes and he wasn't sure if they were open or closed. everything was just black around him.

he must have closed his eyes, because when he opened them, he was laying in the grass somewhere. he propped himself up on his hands and looked around for any distinguishable landmarks. the air was cool, but not like the burning feeling the obsidian was making on his nape. he reached his hand back to feel the spot, and he couldn't feel it. he was touching something, but the area felt foreign and unfamiliar.

he was facing a body of water, the waves lapping up over the grassy bank and threatening to soak into the material of his boots. his eyes were almost perfectly level with the horizon line, and the water in front of him looked endless, reaching back to touch the moon ahead of him. however, he was able to see something stretching over the water, like a path of some kind.

he stared at the glistening liquid before him, flinching when he heard a voice behind his head.

"you're finally up. are you gonna help us finish the walls of the house or not?"

the comforting freshness of the tone made dream's stomach sink into the ground he was sitting on.

 _george_.

"dream?"

he wanted to turn around to see him so badly. he wanted to lean in and count the freckles that decorated his nose and cheeks while he ran his fingers through his short brown hair, and he wanted to decorate his ivory skin with delicate kisses as they basked in the moonlight. he wanted to, he really did. but he couldn't. his neck was stuck, like it was being held still by someone or something.

he kept trying to crane his neck, pushing against whatever invisible force was holding him back. tears tugged at his eyelashes and they stained his cheeks as they fell. he needed to see george.

he hadn't seen him in so long. he was so painfully alone in his cell. george was the only thing he clung to in every war, and the bastard didn't even feel like visiting him. anger crept into dream's throat when he thought about it for too long. 

why wasn't george coming to see him? he knew he'd upset everyone around him, but he didn't think he'd done something to upset george. he would never touch george.

so what did he do?

somewhere in his thought process, whatever that had been holding his neck let go. the momentary anger in his mind coursed through him and he thrashed his head back violently, hoping george was on the other side.

all he hit was a hard wall. the back of his head began pounding directly after the collision happened, making it nearly impossible to hear anything else around him besides the panicked rushing of his blood in his ears.

he yelled out in pain and reached for his head, unsure of how much damage he had done to his mind with the rash movement.

a voice echoed around the bleak holding room that made dream's ears sting.

"it's lunch, dream."

dream's vision was still blurry and unfocused, but he turned his head to watch the raw potatoes drop from the ceiling into the water in the corner of the room. the splash got water on the floor in front of dream's face, and a couple of droplets clung to his cheeks and forehead. the water was cold and it stung his reddened skin.

\---

"dream, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

he couldn't control the evil smile that spread across his face. george's voice was almost laughably upset. he knew he shouldn't be making light of the other man's raw emotion, but he physically couldn't react any differently.

"you- you can't dethrone me. i haven't done anything."

"that's the problem, george. you haven't done anything." his voice lowered as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against george's. "i don't want you hurt. people are starting to make threats on your life, and the last thing i want is for you to get tied up in something i can't get you out of."

it seemed like george was listening to him for a moment, but as soon as dream stopped talking, he backed away.

"why do you treat me like i'm a baby? i can handle things myself, without big leader dream doing everything for me. here, have your fucking crown. i don't want it." he tugged the metal headpiece off his head and shoved it into dream's gut, pushing himself away and walking out of the expansive throne room. the sunlight enveloped his quick-moving figure as he stomped down the wooden path, his hands in fists at his sides.

dream's smile fell. he furrowed his brows in frustration and held the polished crown in both of his palms. his fingers traced the pressed metal that held each precious jewel, the angled shape of the emeralds, the smaller, firmer diamonds embedded into the points.

he was doing what was right. but it felt so wrong.

why?

\---

dream sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the daunting wall of lava that blocked him from the rest of the prison. his eyes focused on the turning of the animated clock in his hands. he watched the vibrant yellow circle that usually stood in the center of the piece as it fell to his left slowly, being covered by the golden mantle that cut through the center of the greater circle.

the movement made the bright blue background flip to a dark midnight blue. a faux cutout representing the pale moon took the sun's place as it rose from the right.

as soon as the pale crescent reached the perfect center of the clock, dream pushed it into the bubbling lava in front of him. he smiled at the sound of the metal bending and melting in the molten liquid. he wondered what it would feel like if he were to reach into the depths; how it would feel to be like the cold, unfeeling metal that he submitted to continuous torture.

he reached his hand forward, his left palm parallel to the direction that the lava was flowing down. the stinging warmth was calling his name, pulling his skin closer and closer, until the flesh was met with the agonizing smoldering that was the orange liquid blistering his complexion.

he had the instinct to pull away, to run to the other side of the room and dunk his melting skin into the cold water, but he forced himself to continue the painful ritual. the fun would be over if he just backed out.

he wanted to see how long he could last before the pain was unbearable. he wasn't a masochist, but he just didn't have anything else to do. he wasn't even sure how many days had passed since he'd been locked away, and it was impossible to tell how much time was passing at any given moment.

if anything, he could get sam to come to his cell and check on him if he did something like this. he hadn't spoken to anyone in so long, and the sound of sam's voice telling him when it was time to eat just wasn't the same.

he finally pulled his hand out of the lava after a minute or two, staring at the welts and burned skin as it pulsed and expanded in the comparatively cold air. he tried to move his fingers, but he felt detached completely from the burn. it was numb and unfeeling, and he stared at it curiously.

he didn't feel like screaming. after the first few seconds, he felt no pain in the area. every nerve ending had been singed off.

strangely, he felt at peace. he didn't want to call sam anymore for company, he only wanted to watch the flesh turn different colors in the dim light as the hours passed and the wound scrambled to repair what epidermis was still there.

after watching the same water, the same clock, the same glistening of the glowstone in his cell, it felt nice to look at something new.

\---

dream opened his eyes to a canopy of rustling leaves above him, covering the stars that were slowly fading as the sun rose from the east, to his right.

he tried to prop himself up, but he couldn't feel one of his hands. he looked over to make sure the body part was still there, and winced at the sight. an arrow had pierced through the top of his hand, right under the knuckles. his tendons were stuck in a taut, uncomfortable position. the pointed flint struck between his middle and ring fingers.

he knew his hand wasn't unfeeling from the arrow.

"dream, are you okay?"

george again.

he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. the words he planned to say fizzled away as they met the open air and the particles landed on his tongue, useless. he could turn his head this time, though, and looked at a sunkissed george. the sun continued to rise, illuminating the right side of his face with a white glow.

his hair was longer than usual, falling with gravity down onto his forehead. the older man noticed where dream's gaze was and he ran his fingers through the front of it, exposing his pale forehead. dream couldn't be certain, but he swore he could see that the freckles that decorated his cheeks had been spreading up the bridge of his nose to follow the shape of his eyebrows.

_'you're so beautiful george.'_

_'i miss you.'_

_'how are things back at home?'_

_'why aren't you wearing any armor?'_

_'why aren't you responding to me?'_

_'don't look at me like that.'_

_'don't back away.'_

_'where are you going?'_

_'i helped you.'_

_'i got you here.'_

_'don't fucking leave me.'_

_'you're disgusting.'_

_'always leaving me when things get too real?'_

_'it's okay.'_

_'i don't need you.'_

_'you'll be sorry you left me.'_

_'i'll make the whole world pay.'_

his mouth was forming every word, but the air wasn't carrying any of it to george's ears.

he was mute, silenced by something he couldn't see, hear, or feel.

he looked down at himself to see a different sight. his hand was still numb, but he was in his heavy armor. a shield was in his dead hand, his crossbow in the other.

the wind carried the smell of fire and smoke, and he looked forward to see the horizon line muddied with the ash he was inhaling.

george's figure was long gone, merely a shadow in the vast stretch of trees. he looked back up into the canopy covering him, and he saw it was burning. he watched miserably as each leaf caught fire and shriveled under the heat, before falling in gray particles down to the ground. he hadn't noticed, but the floor he was laying on was being coated with a thick layer of the leaves' remains.

it reminded him of snow, but he didn't want to be in it. it smelled of bitter agony, his lungs swamped with the olfactory representation of his emotions when he saw george leave. it was resentful irritation, a fear that he lost who he was.

he wasn't himself without george. george was everything he wasn't, everything he hoped he could have been. he was the second half of the puzzle, the piece that didn't didn't fit anywhere else but beside dream.

george was the compliment to dream's antithesis. he was the rationale that kept dream from doing something he shouldn't.

was that why everything was burning?

because george wasn't here?

\---

"dream, there's someone here to see you."

the man didn't flinch. he was sitting in the pool at the corner of his room, his head leaned back against the intersection of the two walls. his eyes were closed peacefully, like he was asleep, but he didn't want to fall into the recesses of slumber.

all of his dreams had been nightmares lately. they were all about george, and they all had the same ending.

he stood up hesitantly, stretching his legs before taking the book from his lectern and sitting next to the lava to dry himself off.

the summery emanation from the thick liquid sunk into his pores and pushed its way into his heart. he was in a good mood. of course, he had no one to show it to.

he opened his book and took out the quill. he ruffled the vane and barbs that had grown stiff and smothered between the rough pages before he dipped the sharpened shaft in the ink and began writing.

_someone's coming to visit me today. i hope it's george._

he paused before shaking his head.

_actually, i hope it's not george. i'm scared to see him. i'm afraid he's been as real in my dreams just as much as i have. he's probably been in my head just to mock me. he's trying to remind me of everything i did wrong, as if this earthly purgatory isn't enough of a daily reminder. trust me, sam reminds me every hour that i'm in here for a reason._

_but you know what? it was worth it._

_george knows what he did. he knows this was all for him. so, if anything, george should be in here instead of me. just because i committed every crime doesn't mean george isn't any less guilty. it's his fucking fault for leaving me._

_he left me.  
i didn't do anything wrong.  
it's his fault.  
you're in the right.  
you don't deserve this.  
fuck george.  
it's his fault.  
it's his fault.  
it's his fault.  
it's his fault.  
it's his fault.  
it's his fault.  
it's his fault.  
it's his fault.  
it's his fault.  
it's his fault.  
it's his fault.  
it's his fault.  
it's his fault.  
it's his fault.  
it's his fault.  
it's his fault._

\---

dream heard sam's muffled voice through the gushing lava between them, and he assumed the safety measure was soon to be dropped to let his visitor pass through.

he put his book away, dusting off the edges of his lectern and dipping his hands into the water in his cauldron, running his dampened fingers through his hair. he had no mirror to judge his appearance, so he tried his best to look at himself in the wobbling reflection in the water.

sam still hadn't told him who was visiting. he usually at least gave him a hint as to who was behind the lava to give him time to process what a meeting would be like with them, but the deafening silence only made dream's mind run faster.

it couldn't be george. he would refuse. he would throw himself into the draining lava and drink the scorching liquid until it burned him from the inside out. he would scream in agony as the lining in his esophagus withered away in the heat, just so george could hear him and let him know what _he_ did, what _he_ could have prevented.

hopefully it wasn't george. he wasn't ready to die a slow and painful death today.

"he's right over there. stand on the platform here and it'll move you over to his cell. the platform moves a little fast, so be careful. we don't want you falling in lava."

dream brought his eyes up from the remnants of the bright, viscous deathwish to see his visitor.

sapnap?

just as the platform was about to move, sam murmured something to sap and the visitor nodded curiously, whispering something back. dream wanted to know what they were saying to each other.

after a few more moments, sapnap faced forward and the machine started moving him forward, towards dream. as his face came into focus, dream saw it was etched with concern and worry. his eyes scanned the prisoner, then his cell, whose walls had begun to drip and ooze dark purple tears from seemingly random places in the foundation.

the construction was the new normal for dream, but he supposed the design and functionality must look a bit odd to newcomers.

the heavy barrier lodged itself between the cell and the outer waiting area as sapnap stepped off the stone platform onto the obsidian dream had been forced to call home.

"i'm going to retract the platform now. the lava will come back down behind once the platform is retracted safely."

sam paused before continuing.

"enjoy your visit."

as the molten fluid created the agonizingly thick barrier between dream's cell and safety, the wall once separating the two men sunk back into the floor, and sapnap was allowed to be in close proximity to his former friend.

dream grabbed a book from his chest quickly before returning.

"so... what's been going on, dream?"

his voice was trembling slightly, an anxious characteristic that almost no one saw in sapnap. except for dream.

the prisoner opened up the book and began to write, scribbing furiously.

_i'm not talking._

he passed the open page to his visitor, who read it with a raised eyebrow.

"why aren't you talking?"

dream took the book back and wrote something else.

_i'm on strike._

"what do you mean, you're on strike? what happened?"

_sam's been feeding me less. and he said he wouldn't give me any other clocks, because i keep burning them._

"why are you burning the clocks?"

_i get bored. there's nothing to do here. i just watch the time pass for hours._

"oh."

dream pointed over to the clock mounted on the wall, and sapnap saw the note attached to the bottom that read: "DO NOT BURN."

_he said he won't give me another one if i burn this one. he's mean._

"i don't think he's mean. he's just trying to make sure you aren't wasting materials. he has to make a new clock for you every time you burn it."

_he's going to take away my only source of fun._

sapnap sighed.

"look, i know, but... i don't know. you can find something else to do. right?"

 _no_.

"look, wouldn't it be easier just to talk to me? we used to be best friends. sam can't hear you talk right now. only me."

the air was silent and tense. dream stared at the other man for a few seconds. the emotion behind his eyes was blank, and sapnap found it hard to maintain eye contact.

he wasn't the dream he became friends with so long ago.

_i'm going to get out of here._

sapnap read the sentence and the book seemed to get heavier in his hands.

"n-no, dude. no. you can't get out. you did some bad stuff, you deserve to be in here."

_eventually._

"no. i'm serious, you can't get out of here. you might have to be here forever."

dream passed the book back without writing anything else.

"stop, dream. you know what you did."

he took the book from sapnap's hands only to pass it back again.

"dream, stop. you're freaking me out, dude."

he took the book back and wrote something down.

_can you pass a message for me?_

"depends on the message. and to who."

_to ranboo._

"i mean, okay. we don't talk much but i can send him something if you want."

_send him this: :)_

"what does that mean?"

_he'll understand. get it to him as soon as possible._

"uh, okay, i guess. i'll go see him after i leave."

_thank you._

sapnap read the last message and looked back up at what was left of his friend.

"no problem."

"are you ready to leave, sapnap?" sam's voice made him jump.

"uh, yeah. i'll see you later, dream. promise i'll come back to visit again."

the silent man only nodded and crossed out every word he wrote to sapnap individually. he didn't really have anything else to do, anyway.

\---

dream wasn't sure when he'd fallen asleep, but he wasn't in his prison cell when he opened his eyes.

the air was hot and dry, making the armor he was wearing stick painfully to his skin. he looked down to the deep red bricks he was standing on.

a fortress.

something shot at him from behind and he jumped in surprise more than in pain.

he reached behind him to feel what had hurt him, because he couldn't hear any indication.

he couldn't hear anything.

the nether was usually so loud, which is why dream hated it so much. the sounds of blazes hissing in disgust and the thuds of their projectiles against the sturdy arches of the fortress made him flinch every time he heard them.

as much as he hated the sounds, it felt more unnerving to hear nothing at all. at least he could determine where threats were coming from when he could hear.

he turned, looking around until his eyes met something that didn't fit in the crimson atmosphere. wood was placed around haphazardly in a path, the pattern growing more and more sporadic as it continued, until it stopped at a figure leaning weakly against one of the towering walls.

"george?"

or, at least, that's what he meant to say. he couldn't even hear his own voice in the deafening quiet. the smaller man craned his neck to look at dream and he said something. his face was laced with concern.

dream wanted to convey that he couldn't hear him, but he didn't know how. was his voice even making any noise?

george gestured for dream to help him, and he said something else. dream watched his lips move, desperate to catch any word he could. it was hard to read his lips when his eyes were transfixed on a large wound just below george's shoulder.

the pale skin transitioned into charred, black blisters as his vision drew closer to the center of the burn. 

he looked back up and saw george say "blaze" and "help." he wished he could understand more of the urgently spoken words that were floating by his ears, unheard.

as he stared at george blankly, the other man grew irritated, pushing himself up against the wall in an attempt to stand. there was a matching wound on his leg, the armor he was wearing broken sharply, posing more danger to his flesh as he tried to move.

he was able to stand, limping over to a bag of things the two had brought with them. with his good hand, he ruffled through the supplies, looking for something to soothe his burns. he looked over his shoulder and said something, likely asking for help from his companion.

when he got no response, he spoke again.

no response again.

dream was staring at the man, but not helping. he was paralyzed by some gripping fear at the sight of george struggling. he looked so young. they hadn't struggled in the nether with george in what felt like years. had it been years?

years since they began everything, when they decided to make their own little civilization from scratch. years since they laid on the sweet summer grass and decided what they wanted in each other.

how had it been years?

the sound of george's gentle laugh as he waded through the small lake on hot days didn't feel like it was years ago. the nights where sapnap would join the two and go hunting until the sun came up didn't feel like it was years ago, either. even george's reign didn't feel like it was years ago.

dream's eyes focused on the scene he was in, and stared at a still body on the ground. the contents of their bag had spilled onto the bricks, some of the flammable materials harboring a weak flame. the orange brightness spilled over onto the corpse's arm, dancing in small waves as it traveled down towards the person's hair and cracked glasses.

this wasn't how he remembered it.

\---

a tall figure walked through the darkened caves, moving swiftly and quietly. it picked up a heavy glass box with one hand and held an equally heavy pickaxe with the other.

the shadow disappeared and reappeared outside, the creature's feet swamped in purple particles.

a person walked up to the creature and took the items from its hands, putting them in his own grasp. the two nodded at each other before the former disappeared once again.

the character looked around him before making his way through the blackness of night. his movements resembled the creature who helped him earlier, but his form was noticeably more human.

the outside of the prison was always so intimidating. its towering walls and glowing gates that stretched for what seemed like miles filled the mystery figure's chest with a thick apprehension that overflowed into his throat.

the beacon was placed next to him on the ground as he stood in front of one of the endless stone pillars reaching into the clouds. he flipped a switch and a glowing beam started projecting itself into the sky parallel to the pillar. it offered a dim glow to help the boy.

his pickaxe struck the stone and he started to chip away at the wall. his eyes were blank, his limbs moving in a robotic motion.

this was something he had to do. he received the message.

a book fell from his pocket, its pages crinkling in complaint as they hit the grassy ground. a small bottle of ink fell out after, making a heavy thud against the ground before it rolled into the lake before it, splashing droplets up into the air.

he looked back at the book for a moment before disregarding it and returning to his task.

he wouldn't need to remember this.


End file.
